Chapter 26 autumn, this autumn

It's autumn, autumn, The wind should still be gentle; The sun still smiles that smile, Glittering with gold and silver, boasting he is running out The most extravagant morning and evening! Here and there, in this autumn, Spotted colors are misplaced everywhere Among the mountains and fields, and among the branches and leaves, like a drunken butterfly, or Coral pearls and emeralds, luxurious lost, Fun fell to the ground. At this time, the feeling is like a song, Flickering in the light of the mountain spring, foam, splash The throat of the mountain rock sings. full of enthusiasm

It's all yours, autumn understands, Autumn knows the wildness,— what autumn loves is that inadvertently Inadvertently messy! But autumn, this autumn, He propped up a wedding feast like a dream, Not for your joy: He let go of his hands and picked up the necklace, A phantasm like a falling flower, Also because of the uncertainty sad, rooted in knots In the center of this life! A gust of wind blows from The outer edge of the west window last night, Shaking the sycamore tree and crying. —— At first you doubt: The lotus leaf is not broken yet; The canoe stops in the midst of the current;

Whispers of summer night, intermingled with the chirping of insects, still trustworthy still cuddling warm and sweet next to the ear; But the sycamore leaves bring the sweet-scented osmanthus, Has reached the light of the lamp. Everything is different, he said with a twinkle, Just one night of wind, one night of illusion. The cold mist blinds my eyes, In such deep autumn, Who are you fighting with?the back of reality Is it realistic, absurd, Is it unbelievable falsehood? Doubts cannot resist simple cruelty, Don't pity bloody mourning any more, Take this opportunity to recognize

The creator is the artisan of destruction. Faith is only a stick of incense, That idea can't stand the west wind Blowing rustlingly through the plane trees! if you can't forget, can't forget The bird song that I have heard before; The flowers I have seen are good, faith Sleep in the middle of the past. ... The pride of autumn is the fruit, Not sprouts, - life does not allow you Do not give away the fragrance you have accumulated; Surrender every layer of color that has been exposed to light and heat; Drain your most embarrassing sorrow. At this moment, Never weep; or call;

No need to close your eyes and pray; (Looking forward to the future in the future); Just keep low, in the stillness, low down The sleepy head bears, - bears the fall of the leaves Listening to the wind tightening the strings, the song is lamented: This night, this night, this miserable transformation!